


Subject 6381

by IcyPanther



Series: Subject 6381 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Dehumanization, Gen, Human Experimentation, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:10:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22175932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: “Please,” he whispered, trying to meet each one’s large eyes. “Pl-please. My name is Lance. I—”“Subject continues to attempt to establish identity. Subject should know,” and there was a cruel glint in this alien’s eye, “we do not care.”Or; Lance is captured and becomes a science experiment.
Series: Subject 6381 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573414
Comments: 51
Kudos: 259





	Subject 6381

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline notes:** Set season one or two, not vital to the fic (prequel to Rows of Stitches, Lines of Pain)  
>  **Warning notes:** laboratory experiment so elements of dehumanization, violence, blood and forced nudity
> 
> If you are taking the time to read this fic **please** take the time to leave a comment. It's only a few moments (or a few minutes if you're feeling extremely kind) for you but I can guarantee it took the author far far longer to write the chapter and hearing from readers means so much. Thank you.

Lance awoke to the whisper of cold air over bare skin and a blinding white light directly above him he could see even through closed eyelids.

He blinked his eyes open slowly, wincing at the light, and trying to look past it.

Bare metal walls looked back. 

Lance blinked.

And then a gasp was torn out of his throat and he went to sit up—

He gagged as something smashed against his throat and his stomach hit something too and his hands and feet didn’t move because they were tied down and _Dios_ what was this what was happening where was he what was going on why was—?

He choked himself again in panic, twisting his head back and forth for any clue, any sign, but all that he saw were walls and…

And a tray table.

And on the tray table...

His movements froze as much as his mind.

Because that…

No…

But...

Because the tray table had _knives and scalpels and syringes_ and he was _restrained on a metal table_ and… and…

Oh _Dios._

He knew why he felt cold.

He had been completely stripped.

He felt his cheeks heat despite the circumstances and it was a welcome heat as something far colder was pooling in his stomach as to his purpose here. 

This…

This was a laboratory.

And he…

He was the...

He frantically cast his memory back as frantically as he tugged on the restraints — cold metal just like the bars cutting across his abdomen and neck — holding his wrists and ankles captive on the edges of the table.

He’d been foraging, the locals telling him about some special berries and he’d wanted to pick them to surprise Hunk, and he’d had a pretty decent sized basket and…

And…

And he couldn’t remember anything past that. 

But there was an ache on the back of his head he was starting to notice and he felt his cheeks flush again at the fact that he, a Paladin of Voltron, had apparently been knocked out from behind without even realizing he was in danger. 

And he’d been brought to wherever this was to…

To…

But, but his team would find him. They’d save him.

 _How?_ danced in the back of his mind and he ignored it because he didn’t know how because he didn’t even know where he was.

Was…

Was it a Galra laboratory? It was lacking in purple decor but… but who else would want to kidnap him?

And Lance couldn’t see it but he heard what could only be a door swoosh open on the opposite side of the room.

He tensed as footsteps approached.

And a figure came into view.

Not Galran, was the first thing he noted.

It was a tall alien, skin almost a cream color, with a large, bulbous head that contained two equally large eyes that were looking at him with unnerving intensity.

And…

And it was wearing a lab coat.

Lance’s skin prickled and he couldn’t even feel embarrassed as the gaze ran up and down the length of his body, a floating datapad at the alien’s side filling with unreadable text.

The alien said nothing.

So Lance decided to.

Maybe… maybe this was all just some big, giant misunderstanding.

“Excuse m—?”

“Record. Subject 6381 has immediately attempted to establish communication,” the alien interrupted.

Subject.

His stomach clenched more. 

He really was…

“Hey,” he pitched his voice sharper, wrists shaking in their restraints. “I’m talking to—”

“Subject has universal dialect. Informal version of speech. Rising cadence, monitors indicate increasing heart rate—”

“My name isn’t ‘Subject,’ it’s Lance—”

“Subject is becoming more agitated—”

“I’m a Paladin of Voltron—”

“Recommendation to sedate and try awakening sequence again. Applying sedation in—”

“Wait, n-no, no, stop!” Lance flailed as best he could as the alien loomed over him, a syringe in hand. “I don’t need—”

“Three…”

“Please, st-stop,” Lance thrashed his head against the table beneath the bar. 

A heavy hand landed on his head, crushing it against the slab, and Lance whimpered as he felt the needle touch on his neck.

No.

No no no.

“And one.”

He felt it depress, a sharp, cold sting that was like being stabbed with an icicle. 

His eyes began to droop and he could feel his body slowing down.

No.

This couldn’t be…

“—subject’s speech patterns devolved into stutters indicating a fear respons—” 

Cold darkness took him before he heard anymore.

xxx

Lance awoke that time to both cold air and murmured voices.

He had the barest moment of hope that his team had found him until he went to move his hands and found them restrained as before.

He…

He was still…

“Subject 6381 has awoken under its own power after twenty-six point four eight dobashes,” the alien said aloud.

Lance rolled the words in his head.

Subject.

It.

These aliens, they…

He opened his eyes, now there three of them, all in lab coats and all looking at him with degrees of interest.

“Please,” he whispered, trying to meet each one’s large eyes. “Pl-please. My name is Lance. I—”

“Subject continues to attempt to establish identity. Subject should know,” and there was a glint in this alien’s eye that was more cruel than the others, “we do not care.”

Lance’s breath hitched. 

“Subject displays standard life form intelligence through speech. No further tests of such nature are needed right now as subject will only continue to agitate itself and disrupt current tests from being carried out.”

One of the aliens picked up a white square from the table and peeled back on one corner.

An adhesive.

That they were going to…

“Wait!” Lance’s voice was shrill, foreign even to him. “Wait, no, st-stop, _por favor,_ please, I—”

A large hand clamped back down on his head, slamming it so hard Lance saw stars, while another hand laid the adhesive square across his mouth, smoothing down the edges on the skin just around his lips.

Tears stung his eyes as his words were sealed.

“Note, Subject species is capable of secreting what appears to be water from eyes.” A cold hand pressed on the skin beneath Lance’s eyes, lifting up with the remnants of a tear stuck to it. “To be further tested.”

The three aliens began to take notes aloud as their hands prodded along him and Lance scrunched his eyes closed so at least he didn’t have to see.

“—Subject displays fur in light amounts all over body but largest masses here,” a hand brushed his head, “and other thicker growth here and here,” hands touched under his arms, trailed down his stomach to—

He couldn’t even flush.

He was too scared.

“—texture of skin is smooth—”

“—male genitalia—”

“—wingspan is proportionate to body length, lower limbs significantly longer than trunk—”

“—some type of bony covering on edges of all outer digits—”

On and on they went, picking apart every piece of his body, pushing scanners up against him and drawing lines with markers as they sectioned him off like…

Like a science project.

Lance choked on his sob, only a muffled breath sounding behind the gag.

“Analysis of outer physical structure complete,” one of the scientists said. “Proceeding to inner examination.”

Lance stiffened.

What?

They… they didn’t mean…?

One of the aliens moved to the side table while another shifted the bar Lance had felt pressing against his stomach away, retracting it into the sides of the table.

The other alien returned with a scalpel. 

Oh no.

 _Dios,_ no.

“First cut will be made here,” a finger pressed down, _hard,_ into Lance’s belly button, “to examine the unique hole-like feature. Begin.”

The finger lifted.

A blade took its place.

And Lance _screamed_ as it pierced into his stomach.

The alien didn’t stop. 

It _dragged_ the blade across, a line of fire extending to Lance’s side.

He screamed again, thrashing, and the blade _jerked_ inside of him. Hands came down then, pressing on his chest, his thighs, and the alien continued cutting until it reached his side.

“—heart rate is increasing beyond previous recorded high,” he heard one say over his roaring pulse. “Pause to see if subject requires sedation or if it will autocorrect itself.”

“Beginning count,” said another alien. 

“Beginning observation of cut,” said the third. “Subject secretion is different from eye liquid. Red in color, thicker.” A finger pressed against the cut line and Lance jerked, choking himself on the neck bar as his body demanded he get away. “Ichor, classify likely as blood. Collecting vial for further analysis.”

Something cold was lowered to his stomach and pushed down.

“Blood is lacking in quantity from current incision. Cut will be made again with deeper penetration. Is heart rate in acceptable range for second attempt?”

“Confirmed, yes. Still high for base but acceptable for procedure. Continue.”

The scalpel was lowered to the original starting point.

Lance choked on a sob.

Oh _Dios._

This couldn’t be…

Please…

Please, someone.

Please…

“Beginning now.”

The blade pressed back in, deeper, harder.

Lance threw his head back.

He let out a muffled scream.

He didn’t know if he would ever stop.

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the prompt of Lance + Vivisection from my November of Thanks event. I have so so many other stories I’d like to share from that event, but this will be the last one I post on AO3 as it is not fair to the audience they were written for otherwise.
> 
> If you enjoyed the fic, please please do leave a comment below detailing what you liked about it (the small details make my day!) Emotional support and validation is super important and appreciated and your comments mean the world. **If you can take the time to read a fic, you can take the time to leave a comment.** ** _Please_** don’t just read and run! Thank you!
> 
> Want to read more of my fanfiction? Check out my [Tumblr, icypantherwrites.](http://www.icypantherwrites.tumblr.com)


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